HUH?

"Simone" and "Sam" have been forced to go on the Lam, after some sloppy security work exposed them to their potential "enemies". Fortunately, they've found help through the SBPP.
("Sex Bloggers Protection Program"). Follow their adventures here until its safe for them to resume their prior alter-egos.

Monday, June 7, 2010

Mistress Loses Track.

Mistress had a very tough day yesterday. So tough she lost track of her orgasm count.

Let’s try to reconstruct.

Yesterday was my switch day. M had not come up with any instructions for me, so it was “free style”.

Since Mistress had been so gentle and loving of late, I did not have it in me to come up with any thing particularly cruel. So I settled for something I knew would satisfy both of us, while feeding Mistress’s rich fantasy life.

Her wrists were cuffed, and fixed together over her head. Her ankles were bound closely together with another pair of leather cuffs. Neat and efficient, and assuring that Mistress was going nowhere.

I lay next to her on the bed, she on her back, me straddling her, kissing and letting her feel the need of my hardening cock.

Then I rolled her over, to begin a long and slow spanking. Not too hard or frenzied. Just enough to warm her bottom and make her squirm. After a bit I slid my free hand under her sliding a finger along the damp slit that was all mine, for the moment, at least.

“Last week you came this way, Mistress….but not this week. I want you to hold it until I turn on the power tool.”

She moaned a bit, grinding her pussy into the palm of my mind.

“Yes, Slave. I will try.”

I spanked her hard.

“You will do more than try, Mistress. Come on my finger and I am going to hide that power tool.”

She laughed.

“That’s mean”.

I suspected she had some plans for that device with M later that day. It had been a few days for them. She would need the device handy in order to follow his instructions. And I spanked her again, a bit harder.

“Yes, Slave…..I understand.”

As Mistress’s frustration grew, I could tell she was holding back a bit. Trying to still the undulations of her willful cunt. So I showed her mercy, as she so often shows to me.

I pulled the Hitachi from under the bed and switched it on. You could feel the relief and anticipation from Mistress.

She was still on her tummy. With her ankles closely bound, it was a challenge for her to spread her thighs just so to allow the tool to slide between her legs.

“It’s not quite there, Slave”, she said, as I toyed with her a bit, deliberately holding it just short of the spot she needed it to be.

“Oh dear….sorry, Mistress.” Can you hear my sarcasm?

She wiggled and wriggled and squirmed to get the right angle, her frustration mounting. But again I showed mercy, easing into the position that allowed her to press her throbbing little clit against the pulsating white bulb.

“I like the way those butt muscles clench and relax, then clench again, Mistress. You look so desperate…..”

Soon she was in a frenzy that took her where she needed to be.

Her first of the day.

I released her ankles, she spread her legs like a nice little slut, as she might for M under these circumstances ,and slowly slid into her from behind. Pumping away at her, she had at least another one, before I rolled her over and finished the job.

It was raining out, so we delayed our bike ride and did some office type work until I was off to some family visits.

When I called her at some point around noon, she confirmed that she and M had been able to fit in one of their phone “dates”.

“When you get home I will tell you all about it, Slave.”

And of course, hearing that satisfied tone in her voice had my cock twitching like one of Pavlov’s dogs once again.

The plan had been for us to take that deferred bike ride once I got home and Mistress returned from the grocery. We put away the provisions required to feed the surly teens and their friends for the next few days. (Summer vacation has begun and hungry hoards will soon converge on our house.) Then Mistress suggested we go to our room for her to report on her encounter.

“Well it was as you might expect, Slave.”

I understood: her cunt, the Hitachi, his hypnotic voice casting it’s spell with tales of Mistress’s submission to his hard and demanding cock.

“And how many times did he make you come, Mistress?”

“Twice, Slave….is that ok by you?”

She meant it. Mistress is considerate of my feelings on all this. Honesty is our watchword, and she does not want me to get toooo jealous. (well, a little bit jealous and competitive is OK. She does like the concept of two alpha males both trying hard to please and amuse her and drive her to sexual frenzy).

“It’s fine, Mistress.”


And it was. But somehow the bike ride was deferred once again, and Slave and Mistress were naked once again. I needed her then and now.

Add (at least) two more to Mistress’s count.

In the aftermath, I napped for about 30 minutes, in recovery mode, and Mistress worked on her non-kinky blog. (her energy level is amazing). Then we finally took that long bike ride, before settling onto our deck with the Times and a beer to catch the late afternoon sun.

Mistress had her –phone with her, and as the little text chime went off, I could tell that she was in touch with M. An ongoing text message flirtation is a charming off shoot of this D/s infatuation of theirs. And I like the way Mistress’s body squirms a bit when the chime goes off, and she taps off a response.

“What’s he up to, Mistress?”

“I can’t believe it. He says he just fucked B, now she is out of the house, and he wants to talk to me again.”

In this case, “talk” was laden with a different meaning. He wanted to get off with her again.

“I’m telling him we’re busy, Slave.”

“Well you could do it out here, but one of the surly teens is just inside. She might see.”

I did like the idea of Mistress toying with herself, in rapture, out on our deck. Another time, maybe.

“But if you want, go inside. I will be fine, Mistress.”

You could see that Mistress was struggling with this. Her little needy cunt was twitching again. It wanted her to comply with his desires.

But her brain was telling her, “you shouldn’t leave your slave all alone out here.” Cute.

I had a feeling her cunt would win this “argument”. And it did, with my encouragement.

“Mistress, I have a beer and the NY Times, and we’ve already had sex twice today. I am more than happy. Plus aren’t you curious to know if he can do it for you after he just had sex with B?”

Of course she was. Off she went. Already dripping, I suspect.

About 25 minutes later, she came padding down to me. Still a bit flushed. She kissed me.

“Well, Mistress?”

“He did do it, Slave. Impressive.”

“And you, Mistress?”

“Yes….but only once this time.”

Truth be told, even I could have done it again at that point. I find that I always want her again after these little “dates”. But I figured “why be greedy….”

As we settled into bed that evening, I was more than satisfied, but offered to worship Mistress. I do like the taste of her on my lips before going to sleep. But she demurred.

“I think I’ve had enough today Slave.”

But when I asked, she really could not remember the count.










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